All For Love
by N.C. Stormeye
Summary: ...There was once a pair of eyes that went unseen at the office...eyes that saw, and hoped. RoyAi


**DISCLAIMER: **All exultation for the genius that is FMA does not go to me at all. I can't even draw.

**Summary: **There were another pair of eyes that used to go unseen at the office…those that see and know and hope.

**StormEye's Notes: **One thing I'm not known for…disappearing off the face of for extended periods of time so…I'M BAACK! I'm sure no-one missed me, because NOBODY IS REVIEWING. I decided to veto my beta on this one…since I needed to see how much I have learned from my long-suffering beta-pal **_words without_**. So forgive me if this sucks. I need a break from **Calculated Risk-Taker. **This is semi-manga in plotline.

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All For Love  
Royai Fiction by N. Stormeye

There were an unseen and often forgotten pair of eyes at the Central Office…mostly because I don't say or do much else than pop in once in awhile and hand Lieutenant Hawkeye more files for Colonel (back when he was still one) Mustang to sign. I'd pop in once in awhile…but I worked late nights. So I know more than anyone really thinks.

I resigned from the military about a month ago…after what happened with the Fuhrer. What everyone says and what I know are two different things. Like I said, I work late nights. When Major Elric, The Fullmetal Alchemist, was around I was able to overhear their discoveries…as well as the revelation from Lieutenant Hawkeye and Colonel (for posterity's sake he will remain addressed by this title throughout) Mustang that Fuhrer King Bradley was a homunculi. I did research too…sort of. So I know what that is.

But what the Fuhrer really is isn't what my story, whatever's left of it anyway, is about. My story, in the most cheesy and idealistic of ways, is a love story. You see, as I've said before…the two people I've hung around the most are Lieutenant Hawkeye and Colonel Mustang. Not that I was eavesdropping (well, I was), but they do call me "the spyglass". I may be a mere typist, pushing papers and typing words, but I also am human…and I've seen what appears to be the greatest ongoing love story I know.

So let me start with the obvious…the pair I mean here are the aforementioned Lieutenant and Colonel. I'm sure it's safe to reveal this in the privacy of my own home. If word gets out that the Fuhrer's secretary and the rebellious Mustang are…shall we say…an item, then all my hopes would be dashed. I am ambitious…but my ambition extends to things beyond my control. My ambition is to see the day these two lovers can love in peace.

But I know what must be done…and all this is for love.

I knew those two had feelings for each other a few days after I was new…when I had to deliver my first stack of papers. Balanced precariously in my arms, I marched those papers into the office then slowly, quietly passed them to Lieutenant Hawkeye. I had known that Colonel Mustang was a ladies man…but on that day I slipped away unnoticed…except by Lieutenant Havoc, who let out a whistle. I knew then that the Colonel had eyes only for Lieutenant Hawkeye…especially when he stole a small glance at her, and she colored a bit but pretended not to have noticed. A quick exchange, but I noticed. I let myself out as quietly as I had come in.

I knew that they had reached an understanding when I saw how they walked out together…especially when it rained. I'd watch through the windows of the secretariat building…as silent as a ghost in the fog. No one was there save me. I suppose it was for the best. The way they had vetoed their "two steps behind" to stand side-by-side, talking in the rain. Sometimes I'd be downstairs and overhear snippets of conversation. It was all very professional, but the undertones were something more.

It was nice to watch them. It was when I started to hope for the future. I started wordlessly hoping for them both. I was a typist in the military…yet I dreamed as if I had already seen war. I dreamed for them. I made up wishful thoughts about them in my head. Seeing them happy and together became my obsession.

I knew they had fallen in love, though, shortly after the incident. Everyone heard about the incident, how the Fuhrer had graciously allowed Colonel Mustang and his team to remain in the military…but I was the one who had to type the papers notarizing the team's reassignments. They were disbanded. And Lieutenant Hawkeye would be the Fuhrer's personal assistant. If you look at the original copies of the papers, you will see that some of the ink has been smudged and the paper has waved in some places. That is where the only tears I allowed myself to cry fell.

The day after, I had to deliver papers to the Fuhrer's office…a kind of promotion for me. I was allowed to see Lieutenant Hawkeye, silent at her desk, scribbling on paper. I put on a poker face and put the papers on her desk to pass on to the Fuhrer. I saw what she was scribbling. "If only I was back where I belonged…by his side." I pretended to see nothing.

But I had hope soon enough. Another late night came…and I stood at the window to assess the weather prospects before leaving. It was raining…and I could make out two figures in what you could call a courtyard. I strained my eyes to see their faces against the raindrops. I allowed myself to smile…as if nothing had happened. They were still walking together, still speaking in that professional language that had become sort of a code. Yet from my vantage point in the window…their hands were intertwined. For all that it was worth, the promise still held strong.

I knew that promise existed…and I keep faith in it. I resigned soon after…quickly and cleanly. After all, what was one less typist? I now work in a flowershop. Everyday, I receive a phone call in a disguised male voice asking me to deliver a rose to a certain address. This is how I know how the love has survived. To love, you must give all for love. That is what I have learned.

For Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye…fate binds them together but the rules keep them apart. The rules may keep them apart bodily, but there is always hope when you give all for love.

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FINALLY: Worst fic I have ever written. Oh well.**

Love,

N. StormEye


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